


an old-fashioned man

by the_hodag



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clint POV, Episode: s05e11 Meet the Parents, Family, Gen, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:08:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24709630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_hodag/pseuds/the_hodag
Summary: Clint and David have a moment at Patrick’s “surprise” birthday party.
Relationships: Clint Brewer & David Rose, Clint Brewer & Patrick Brewer, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 33
Kudos: 296





	an old-fashioned man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DelilahMcMuffin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DelilahMcMuffin/gifts).



> this was a prompt fill for: Clint and David have a moment at Patrick’s “surprise” birthday party
> 
> and by god, i was not gonna let this opportunity pass me by

Patrick is almost _too_ much like him. 

Clint realizes it from behind the refreshments table as he pretends not to listen to the way his son explains the benefits of having a web-based point of sale system to Mr. Rose. He doesn’t understand it when Patrick uses words like “cloud” and “real-time data processing”, but Clint can recognize when someone is enamored with facts and analytics because he, too, harbors an admiration for the definitive truth. It made Clint confident, taught him to carry himself like he had all the answers. Marci tells him that it’s annoying sometimes, and maybe she’s right about that. 

He never wanted Patrick to feel like the box he was raised in was made of impenetrable steel, but that doesn’t change the fact that his son defined himself by the expectations Clint placed on him at an early age. He was taught to be a pragmatist, to be conservative, to have all the answers before asking any questions. It was easy to navigate the world with an encyclopedia on what made it work. 

It was easy. But it wasn’t always truthful. When his son sat before him, on the brink of tears as he admits that David was more than just a business partner to him, Clint realized that his way of thinking was actively harmful to the people he loved. He’ll never forget the look in Patrick’s eyes as he held his breath and waited for his father to say _something_ . It was like his son was seven years old again, shamefully admitting that he had broken Clint’s watch. And of course Clint had reprimanded him for breaking it; the watch had been a family heirloom, passed down from the father on the day of the son’s wedding, and Clint had hoped to continue that cycle. But he should’ve told Patrick that watches can be fixed. The chipped glass can be replaced, a new link can be added to the band, and the watch would still tick on. 

As Clint takes a sip from his flute, a light tap on his shoulder and a voice that asks “Can I interest you in a crabcake, Mr. Brewer?” tears his attention away from Patrick. His son’s _boyfriend_ stands tall before him, the plate in his hand held out in Clint’s direction as though it were a peace offering.

“Ah, no thank you,” Clint says, removing his free hand from his pocket to wave it in front of him. “I’m actually allergic to shellfish.”

“Oh. I wish I’d...” David murmurs. The rings on his fingers tap against the bottom of the plate with soft clinks. “It’s fine. It’s—there’s still enough champagne to go around. And if I’m being honest, we all probably deserve a drink or three after this night of revelations.” David laughs weakly.

“That’s probably true, but considering this is a ‘night of revelations’, you should also know that I quit drinking a long time ago.” Clint raises the champagne flute in his hand. “Just the cider will do for me today.” 

“Oh.” 

“It’s delicious, by the way.” 

“Well, then I should tell you that we sourced that cider from a pesticide-free orchard that also specializes in organic grooming products,” David explains. “There should be a sample bottle of their Rosewater Macintosh toner in the gift basket I dropped off earlier.”

“Marci will love that,” Clint says, pointing to his wife across the room, chittering happily with David’s sister. “She’s been talking a lot lately about how she wants to try more organic stuff.” 

“Well, stop by the store sometime before you leave. We have a wider selection of natural products, and I’ll even give you a twenty percent discount so long as you don’t tell Patrick about it.”

“That’s incredibly kind of you.” 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for the misunderstanding,” David replies, and it’s clear that he is trying to impress Clint, even after everything. Still, Clint isn’t sure how to admit that he was beyond impressed the second David knocked on the motel door and introduced himself as his son’s boyfriend. The boy had been understandably tentative as he stepped into the room, firmly gripping a basket that was potentially the only thing standing between him and a line of fire. Yet David blindly walked into the unknown for Patrick’s sake, proving beyond a reasonable doubt that Clint’s son had chosen the right person.

That’s all Clint hopes for in the end. For Patrick to choose the right person. Maybe Clint could never have imagined that person would be a man, but maybe that’s just another example of the world evolving beyond him and his old-fashioned ways.

“There’s nothing you need to make up for. If anything, I should be apologizing to _you_ for the burden you had on your shoulders tonight.”

David shakes his head. “Oh no, it really wasn’t—”

“I’m an old-fashioned man, David,” Clint starts, setting down the flute of cider on top of the table. “I was raised with rigid principles and traditional ideas that I refused to change, even when the people around me did. _Especially_ when the people around me did. I thought I knew everything there was to know about the world and my place in it. Because that confidence served me well, I passed it down to my son. He still has a lot of that in him.”

“Frankly, that confidence is annoying sometimes?” 

Clint laughs, and David’s gaze flickers with confusion. “You and Marci will get along well.”

David glances over to where Patrick is standing, immersed in the conversation with Mr. Rose, and he smiles. The smile is several things at once: secretive, self-reflective, overly fond. It’s the same smile Clint often had whenever he’d think about his wife.

“You’re a good man, David,” he simply says, offering a reassuring pat on the shoulder. 

The smile falters, and David’s eyes cast downward as he shifts from one foot to the other. “People keep telling me that.”

“And I’m sorry...that I made Patrick feel like he needed to hide himself away.” After Johnny mistakenly clarified the nature of David and Patrick’s relationship, Clint spent a lot of time reevaluating his outlook on the world and how his actions might have made him complicit in Patrick’s insecurities. Maybe if he had done things differently, had been more straightforward about the unwavering love he held for his son...maybe Patrick would’ve found a man like David a long time ago. 

“But he forgives you,” David is quick to defend. “Of course he forgives you. He’s a very forgiving person, I’ve learned.”

“And what about you?”

David seems surprised by the question. “Me?”

“Are you a forgiving person?” Clint doesn’t entirely know why he asked, but there’s a part of him that is afraid of the things David might think of him.

“Not...in most cases,” David admits carefully, “But I’ve been known to make an exception here and there when it concerns your son.”

The tension in Clint's shoulders washes away, and he forces himself to speak honestly because he doesn't want his love to be ambiguous anymore. “Just know that I’m beyond grateful that you helped my son find his place in the world.” 

David’s eyes water. He lets out a brief annoyed sigh as he blots his face with the sleeve of his sweater. “He, um...he did that himself.”

“Maybe, but from what he’s told me, it sounds like you gave him that final push he needed.”

It takes David a second to respond, but when he does, his voice is soft and unsure. “Well, it—he helped me too.” 

And there it is again, that fond gaze shot in Patrick’s direction. Only this time, Patrick glances back and Clint sees it on his face too. 


End file.
